The Play of Life
by Kasey
Summary: Complete: Wufei is injured during a mission, and goes to the closest refuge he can find, only to discover the place inhabited by Treize Kushrenada. This is *not* written for romance or angst, but purely for the thoughts and contemplations of the charact
1. Act I

This is a Gundam Wing fanfiction in three Acts.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Angst. Thinking. Sap is a possibility. Shonen-ai? Up to you. Depending on your tastes, there's even a bit of humor.  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Explainations: I do not believe in Brecht. Therefore, anything I deem necessary to explain will be taken care of in an addition at the end of the story, but not footnoted in the text.  
  
---  
  
This is dedicated to Apache--Warrior Princess, Queen of the Downstairs, Moose, Boxcar Willy, Tribble "the Kitten", Occy, Puss, Chang, Jemimah, Yang, Fluffy, Oreo, Tiger, Blackie, Casper, Smokey, Catlin, and Caltrop, the cats in my life.  
  
---  
  
"The Play of Life"  
-Act I-  
  
---  
  
"The second act has just begun. We'll be busy."  
  
---  
  
Curtain  
  
---  
  
"Huhh...." Wufei groaned and stumbled again. He was rain-soaked and in immense pain. One rib was broken, he was sure. Blood ran from a long, bone-deep gash in his left calf. But he knew the safe house was barely minutes away. He had been there many times, and kept it as well stocked as it had been when he found it. He hoped the first aid kit was still in good condition.  
  
He whimpered, cursing his own weakness, when he finally caught sight of the old hunting cabin. His vision was starting to fail. He didn't have long, now.  
  
Blindly, he grasped the door handle. He jiggled it a bit, grateful that it opened easily. That was as far as he got. His left leg crumpled beneath him. As his knees hit the wood floor, pain consumed him, and he passed out.  
  
---  
  
Treize shot up in his bed. The door had banged open, and then there was nothing. No sound. Just the pouring rain outside. He threw off the covers and grabbed up his robe.  
  
Then he walked slowly out of his room, and down the hall. Past the bathroom. Into the kitchen. Still he heard nothing.  
  
A gust of wind hit Treize's bare legs, and he shivered. The door really was open. He passed through the kitchen, and opened the half-door into the main room.  
  
Pale moonlight from one window illuminated the slight form of a boy, unconscious, barely inside the cabin. Treize gasped and rushed forward. He kneeled down next to him. It was too dark to see the boy's wounds, except for the blood seeping out of his leg. He carefully rolled the boy over.  
  
---  
  
Wufei groaned. He struggled up, through darkness. He hurt. Oh, how he was in pain! Someone near him hissed in shock, and Wufei could feel strong hands tugging at his shoulder, turning him onto his back. He tried to open his eyes. All he saw was blackness.  
  
---  
  
It was so dark. Who was this boy? Treize squinted his eyes to make out the dim facial features, but failed. Whoever he was, he needed to get fully inside, out of the rain.  
  
He passed his fingers lightly over the boy's chest and abdomen. There. A sharp intake of breath as he touched one of the ribs. Damn. It had to be broken.  
  
Carefully, he lifted the boy up. Practically gliding, so as not to jar the boy, Treize crossed the room to a couch. He set him down.  
  
As he pulled his hands out from under the boy, he could feel something warm and wet on one wrist. He passed a finger over it and held it up in the dim light. Blood. There was another gash on the boy's left forearm.  
  
He hurried to the bathroom for the first aid kit.  
  
---  
  
Treize stared, shocked. He, himself, had stocked this cabin. He knew where everything was, and why, and how much of it he had put there. So why were there two medical boxes? He identified one as his own. A small, white box with the trademark red cross on the front. The second, he had never seen before.  
  
It was a much larger box. Dark green in color, with a similar, though darker, cross. Confused, he flipped the box open. Indeed, the box contained everything his own kit had, and more. Medicines. Needles. Even plaster.  
  
He was spending too much time thinking. He quickly closed the green box, lifted it, grabbed some towels, and rushed back to see the boy.  
  
---  
  
Light. What was needed was light. Treize pulled a reading lamp away from the wall and arranged it to shine over the couch. A few more adjustments, and he flipped the switch.  
  
It was all he could do not to stare. The face that was twisted in pain and anger, the eyes squeezed shut and the lips dry and cracking as breath was forced through them...it was Chang Wufei. The Gundam pilot. The one who had challenged him and lost.  
  
Treize blinked. In all rationality, the boy was his enemy, and he should kill him. He was, after all, a Gundam pilot. But to kick a man when he was down...  
  
He set to work, binding Wufei's arm with a towel. The wound was not bad, but pressure was needed to keep the boy from losing any more blood. As soon as he was done, he wrapped a similar makeshift bandage around Wufei's left calf.  
  
Now that the blood loss was slowed, Treize went to the kitchen and began to boil water. He looked at the kitchen clock. Two-seventeen AM. Three-and-one-half hours until sunrise. Would Wufei make it? He left the water heating and returned to the main room.  
  
Looking into the medical kit that he had recovered from the bathroom, Treize guessed that it belonged to Wufei. Had the pilot been using his cabin during his absence? It would make sense, though, since there was nothing in the old hunting cabin to identify it as belonging to Treize or OZ. Wufei may have thought it belonged to someone who would only use it during the hunting season.  
  
Treize hunted, occasionally, but right now this cabin was his retreat. True, he had and old radio stashed in the cabin, and he always brought paperwork with him. And took it away with him when he left, of course. Not knowing about Treize, Wufei must have thought the cabin would be empty at this point in the year.  
  
Treize looked at the weak form lying on the couch. As well for him that he had been mistaken. Without someone else to bind his injuries, the Chinese pilot might very well be dead by morning.  
  
Treize sifted through the medical kit. He found some disinfectants, gauze, and varying widths of medical tape. He pulled a chair over to the side of the couch and piled the items on top of it. Then a sharp whistle from the kitchen caught his attention, and he got up to get the hot water.  
  
In the kitchen, Treize also got a wash-cloth and a bowl. He returned to the main room. Wufei was starting to move. Good, he was still alive. Not good, he could further his injuries.  
  
Treize quickly poured some water into the bowl and set the kettle on the floor, ignoring the hiss as it cut into the soft wood around it. He then dunked the wash-cloth into the water, wrung it out, and dabbed at Wufei's face.  
  
Wufei flinched, and groaned. Treize wiped the dirt away from his face, worried to see that a little blood came with it. There was a small cut above his left ear. Treize adjusted the light, and looked to the wound. There was the cut. And there was the cause. Carefully, Treize pulled a short sliver of shrapnel out of the boy's skin.  
  
Shrapnel. It made sense, now. All of Wufei's injuries were on the left side of his body. He had probably been running, or fighting, and an explosion off to his left would have...But how could he have made it so far without dropping, unconscious, as he did when he burst into the cabin? The explosion had to have been fairly close by.  
  
But, Treize thought, I've been here for two days, and heard nothing.  
  
Carefully, Treize washed out the small cut, and swabbed it with iodine. It was at a bad place for a bandage, but then, it wasn't bleeding much. The worst injury was on Wufei's leg. He had to deal with that, now.  
  
Pulling another lamp over, Treize's suspicions were confirmed. As he unbound the towel bandage, he could see some shrapnel barely sticking out of Wufei's calf. He hadn't seen it, initially.  
  
Treize threw his robe off to the side. The long sleeves were going to get in his way, and he needed to do this right, or he would further cripple the boy. Wufei's pants were shredded, and he had no problem ripping enough of the material away so that he could work without obstruction. Then he dipped his hands in the bowl of steaming hot water. Satisfied that they were clean, he set to work pulling out the offending metal.  
  
There was a grating sound as Treize began the initial removal, and Wufei cried out unconsciously. Treize shuddered. It must be hitting his bone, he thought. Treize placed one hand on Wufei's leg, to hold it steady. He took a deep breath, and eased the jagged piece of metal out of Wufei's leg with his free hand.  
  
Done. Blood was flowing freely from Wufei's leg, again, and Treize threw the shrapnel aside in his rush to wash it out and bind it. Hot water was used to clean the leg. A disinfectant, and a salve would keep infection from setting in. Then the gauze, for the blood to clot in, and finally the medical tape, to hold it all together.  
  
Shaking and breathing hard, Treize sat back. He had seen men die before. Men, dying bloody, painful deaths right in front of him. One or two, at his hands. He forced himself to breath through his nose to prevent hyperventilation. Somehow, it was different when you were trying to prevent the death. Life was so fragile. The boy in front of him proved what he already believed.  
  
Treize's hand brushed something sharp on the floor, and he picked up the piece of shrapnel. It was as long as his hand, and half as wide. He reflected that barely a centimeter had stood free from Wufei's body. It would be a miracle if the boy weren't crippled for life.  
  
Treize looked up. He still had to deal with Wufei's arm. He unwrapped the towel around the injured arm. The wound there was not nearly as bad. After applying pressure evenly around the arm, Treize confirmed that any shrapnel that might have hit there had already been removed, probably by Wufei. Clean, disinfect, and wrap. Now what could he do about the broken rib?  
  
Nothing, of course. The boy needed a doctor, a surgeon. Treize knew all the basic field remedies, and some more advanced, but surgery was far beyond him. He was torn. He could radio to his people to send out an emergency helicopter. Wufei would be healed by some of the best medics in the business. On the other hand, the Romefeller foundation would then choose to keep Wufei. A Gundam pilot could not be released back onto the streets.  
  
Treize's thoughts were interrupted as Wufei moaned and opened his eyes. Immediately, the pilot tried to sit up. Wufei cringed, crying out quietly.  
  
"Don't," Treize said, and gently eased him back down onto the couch. Wufei breathed hard through his nose in order to calm down. His vision was returning, slowly, but all he could see was a dark, blurry face silhouetted above him. Treize went on talking, trying to keep Wufei awake and bring him slowly back to consciousness.  
  
"You have a broken rib, or cracked, at the very least. Also, there is a deep shrapnel wound in your leg. Moving now could jar either injury, so please don't. Your other injuries are minor. Can you hear me?"  
  
Wufei blinked, and blinked again. His vision was still fuzzy. The voice he heard was a light tenor, and friendly. Oddly familiar, too. He couldn't think, though. He tried to nod, and winced in pain.  
  
"Huhh...nn."  
  
"Can you hear me?"  
  
"Ye--ye-s."  
  
"Ah. Good. Can you see?" Wufei tried to answer, but wound up coughing sharply instead. Between his dry throat and wounded ribs, he fairly screamed in pain. Treize realized the problem, and ran back to the kitchen for some fresh water.  
  
When Treize returned, he propped some couch and chair cushions up behind Wufei, so that the pilot was in a somewhat more upright position. Then he held the glass of cold water up to Wufei's lips and tipped it, and pulled it away again.  
  
The pilot drank what he could. He swallowed most, but some of the water trickled down his chin. Treize gave him another sip. It was the same. Treize repeated the process until Wufei was swallowing each sip of water fully. The boy's lips were bright red from chapping and the sudden hydration. Wufei shivered a little.  
  
Treize tried again.  
  
"Can you see me?"  
  
"Barely," came the weak reply. "You're..." Wufei blinked again and reached up with his right hand to scrub at his eyes. "Fuzzy," he finished.  
  
"Hmm," Treize said thoughtfully. "That should go away soon, I think. You're lucky I was here. I don't think you'd have woken up, otherwise."  
  
"Huh? Here?"  
  
"Here, in my cabin. You couldn't possibly have taken care of those wounds on your own."  
  
"This is your cabin?"  
  
"Yes. Don't talk, now. I need to wrap something around your ribs." Treize shuffled through the medical kit, and pulled out a wide roll of medical tape. "I think this will do it. Hm. Do you think you can sit up?"  
  
There was a slight hesitation. "Yes."  
  
"Good." Treize reached one arm around Wufei and helped him turn, and sit up. Wufei winced a little, but said nothing. "You'll have to help me with your shirt, if you please," Treize said. He pulled the rain-soaked material up, and Wufei pulled his right arm free. Then Treize maneuvered the shirt over the boy's head, and off of his left arm. Easy.  
  
Now Treize could see where the injured rib was. Purple bruising spread out near Wufei's diaphragm. Carefully, he wrapped the tape around and around the middle of Wufei's torso. When he was satisfied that there was nothing more he could do, Treize stopped, and cut the tape.  
  
Wufei looked down to see the blurry white tape. At least his rib didn't feel like it was going to pop out of his body, anymore. His leg, on the other hand... He could make out the bright white of the bandages there, too. And more on his arm. He looked back up, squinting at his helper's face. The shape of the face, the sandy hair that was blurred in his vision... Did he know this man?  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Don't thank me."  
  
"I owe you my life."  
  
"Never owe anyone your life."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Treize opened his mouth to respond, and shut it again. Telling Wufei his name might cause the pilot to jump, or jar himself in some way that would inevitably be very painful.  
  
"Do I know who you are?" Wufei continued.  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
"Are you for or against Romefeller?" His voice was suspicious. Treize licked his lips nervously. He was on to him.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't answer that."  
  
"Can't answer? Or can't tell me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're with OZ." That was a clear statement.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So why did you help me?"  
  
"I couldn't let you die. You were injured. It wouldn't have been honorable."  
  
"General Kushrenada."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Get away from me."  
  
"I thought you might feel that way," Treize said quietly, moving to sit on the chair.  
  
"Why didn't you just let me die? I would have been out of your way, General," the boy spat.  
  
"I told you. Honor would not permit me to do so."  
  
"What do you know about honor?!" Wufei was fast becoming exited, glaring blindly in his direction, and Treize was afraid he would try to move, soon.  
  
"That's a very good question. Perhaps nothing. Either way, I couldn't kill a man when he's already injured. Neither, I suppose, could you." Wufei scowled.  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Chang Wufei," Treize started, then stopped, thinking. Wufei glanced darkly in his direction. "You use this cabin regularly, don't you?"  
  
"Yes. I didn't know it was yours. Excuse me."  
  
"No apology is necessary. Is this green first-aid kit yours?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm afraid you'll need to restock it."  
  
"Hn."  
  
"I will not complain if you wish to use my cabin, again. Please feel free."  
  
"I don't think I'll get that chance, General."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You've got me. You have to hand me over to Romefeller."  
  
"They don't know that you're here, Chang Wufei. As far as they know, I'm on vacation. Tell me, why haven't you brought me your second challenge?"  
  
"Second challenge?"  
  
"The one you promised me."  
  
"I didn't think you would bother to wait for it."  
  
"On the contrary, I look forward to it. Perhaps...when your leg heals?"  
  
"I will challenge you again. If I am able to."  
  
"If you are alive, you mean?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Why would you doubt?"  
  
"Romefeller wants us pilots dead," Wufei spat. "I would think a top man like yourself would know that."  
  
"Romefeller does," Treize agreed. "I want my second challenge."  
  
"What are you getting at, General?"  
  
"I have no intention of keeping you here. I did not tend your wounds only to send you to the headsman. When you can, go."  
  
"Go?"  
  
"Back to your Gundam. Or the other pilots, wherever they are. If you can contact them, I suggest you do. You shouldn't travel on that leg."  
  
"You're not going to give me to Romefeller."  
  
"That is exactly what I said."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I want my second challenge," Treize repeated. "Is that a good enough reason?"  
  
"It is, for me."  
  
"Because you want to challenge me again."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you hungry?" Wufei blinked, startled at the change in subject. Treize could see the pilot's eyes dilate slightly. His vision was returning. He didn't answer. Treize tried again. "When was the last time you ate?"  
  
"This morning."  
  
Treize frowned and thought about the time. It had to be nearly four AM, and Wufei had been here for a couple of hours...  
  
"Wufei, when were you injured?"  
  
"The blast happened around seven PM.... What time is it, now?"  
  
"Almost four AM, I think."  
  
"What!" Wufei jumped to his feet, startling Treize. As suddenly as he had moved, Wufei fell back onto the couch, yelling in pain. His leg! Now it was Treize who jumped up, frantically trying to sooth the boy.  
  
"Stop moving, Wufei!" He placed a hand gently but firmly on the uninjured part of the pilot's chest, laying him back down on the couch. "Fighting now can only make it worse." Wufei choked and gasped for air.  
  
Treize carefully picked up Wufei's left leg, holding it by the knee and the heel, and rested the foot on the arm of the couch. There were a few more spare couch cushions within reach. He placed them under Wufei's knee and calf, supporting the leg.  
  
Wufei shook, angry at himself for being so stupid as to stand on an injured leg, and furious at being so weak as to show this much pain to the enemy.  
  
Enemy? The General wasn't acting like his enemy. He was going to let him go. In fact, he was encouraging him to escape. Not that the wounded pilot was in any position to go anywhere. He tensed, and pain rushed up through his leg again.  
  
Treize looked down at Wufei, who was trembling in pain. Something struck him. The pilot had been out in the rain for hours, trying to find shelter. He had known where the shelter was, but had fainted upon arrival. His hair was plastered to his face with rain and sweat, and he was coated in grime.  
  
Treize stood and walked to the back of the cabin. Wufei watched him go, his vision still dotting around the edges. When Treize returned, he was carrying a blanket, and a clean towel. Wufei knew they were meant for him, but he flinched when Treize came near him.  
  
"Allow me to help you," Treize pleaded. "You could easily get sick."  
  
"I don't need your help!"  
  
"And where would you be right now without me, Chang Wufei?"  
  
"Back on L5," the boy spat. Treize winced. L5 was a colony that had recently detonated itself rather than fall to the Romefeller Foundation. Apparently, this was where the boy had lived before the war.  
  
Treize sighed. "Forgive me."  
  
"No."  
  
"Then don't."  
  
"I don't intend to."  
  
"Will you at least allow me to give you this blanket? I would rather not postpone your second challenge any farther by adding sickness to the list of current delays."  
  
Wufei frowned, then motioned for the blanket. Treize smiled a little, and stepped forward. Standing over the pilot, he unfolded the blanket, and laid it out over Wufei's body. Then, being particularly careful around Wufei's leg and ribs, Treize tucked the blanket in, to retain to greatest amount of heat.  
  
Once Wufei was thoroughly cocooned in the blanket, Treize held up the towel he had brought with him. Wufei raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Don't move," Treize said. He wrapped the towel around Wufei's head and gently dried out the boy's hair. When he removed the towel, Wufei was glaring up at him and the white towel was coated with soot and tiny spots of blood from the small ear injury.  
  
"What was that for?" the Chinese pilot hissed.  
  
"Hypothermia," Treize stated calmly. "It's cold, this time of year." Wufei scowled, but said nothing. "Ah, I forgot," Treize went on. "Food? You never said."  
  
Wufei was silent, glowering at the General of OZ.  
  
Treize sighed. "Please tell me if you are hungry, Chang Wufei. Do not let your own stubbornness weaken you any further."  
  
Wufei sat up sharply, angered by the barb in Treize's comment. He cried out as the muscles in his leg were stretched. Treize was on his knees immediately, laying the pilot back down on the couch and applying gentle pressure at his shoulders, distracting him from the pain.  
  
When Wufei had calmed down, Treize stood up again and backed away.  
  
"I'm sorry, Chang Wufei. I should not have said something that would make you react that way when you are injured. I do hope that you will tell me if you need food, though."  
  
Wufei focused his narrowed eyes on the man in front of him as best he could. Finally, he nodded. Treize nodded, as well, and turned quickly towards the door that, Wufei knew, led to the kitchen.  
  
---  
  
Blackout  
  
---  
---  
  



	2. Act II

This is a Gundam Wing fanfiction.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Angst. Thinking. Sap is a possibility. Shonen-ai? Up to you. Depending on your tastes, there's even a bit of humor.  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Explainations: I do not believe in Brecht. Therefore, anything I deem necessary to explain will be taken care of in an addition at the end of the story, but not footnoted in the text.  
  
---  
  
This is dedicated to Apache--Warrior Princess, Queen of the Downstairs, Moose, Boxcar Willy, Tribble "the Kitten", Occy, Puss, Chang, Jemimah, Yang, Fluffy, Oreo, Tiger, Blackie, Casper, Smokey, Catlin, and Caltrop, the cats in my life.  
  
---  
  
"The Play of Life"  
-Act II, scene 1-  
  
---  
  
Lights  
  
---  
  
In the kitchen, Treize placed his palms on a counter and leaned heavily on his arms, berating himself for an idiot. He knew his comment would sting Wufei! And he had thrown it out, in spite. He was no better than those he opposed in the war. Damn them. Damn himself. Damn. Wufei could have been further injured, and Treize was going to blame himself.  
  
Shaking with suppressed anger, Treize found a can of chicken noodle soup and began heating it up. On a sudden inspiration, he walked back to the bathroom, and returned with a bottle of pills. He found a fresh glass and filled it with cold juice from the refrigerator. He left the soup heating slowly on the stove, and took the juice and pill bottle into the main room.  
  
---  
  
Wufei looked up as Treize walked in. He took note at the two changes: one pill bottle, one glass of red liquid. Great.  
  
Treize smiled disarmingly, and Wufei's mouth thinned into a tight line. There was no way Treize was getting any medication past his lips!  
  
"This is basic ibuprofen, Chang Wufei. It will ease the pain," Treize said, setting the glass down in order to open the pill bottle. "Do you mind cranberry juice? It's either that, or milk, or water. Tea takes too long."  
  
"I don't need any...medicine," Wufei snarled.  
  
Treize raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. I think you should at least give it a chance. That leg must hurt." He closed the bottle of pills and put it down. He took up the glass of juice.  
  
Wufei practically growled. He could take more pain than that! "I'm not taking any medication."  
  
Treize walked over and kneeled next to the couch. "Please take it."  
  
"No!"  
  
Instead of replying, Treize reached up quickly, and before Wufei could react, he had pushed the pill between Wufei's lips. The dry pill stuck to the moist part of his lips, just inside his mouth.  
  
Wufei's eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to blow the pill out of his mouth, but it stayed. Sighing and accepting defeat, he reached for the glass of juice with his right hand. Treize kept his expression steady, and handed him the glass.  
  
Wufei swallowed the pill, and took a few more sips of cranberry juice.  
  
"That's a trick my grandmother used on me," Treize said, to break the silence. "I broke my hip when I was four."  
  
Wufei glanced at Treize through the corner of his eyes, and automatically conjured a vision of a young Treize, sputtering as he was outwitted by an old woman. He sniffed a light laugh, and the corners of his mouth turned up.  
  
Treize smiled as well. Then he stood, picked up the pill bottle, and returned to the kitchen. The soup would be nearly done, by now.  
  
---  
  
The soup was just beginning to boil when Treize walked into the kitchen. Letting it cook just a few moments longer, he reached into a cupboard and removed two mugs. Then he ladled the steaming soup evenly into the mugs, and set the empty pot in the sink. He could bother with dirty dishes later.  
  
Feeling more relaxed, he picked up the mugs and elbowed the kitchen door back open.  
  
---  
  
Somehow, Wufei had maneuvered himself into a sitting position, still wrapped in the blanket Treize had given him. His face was tight; evidently, the adjustment had hurt, and it would be about ten or so minutes until the ibuprofen kicked in.  
  
Treize frowned. Wufei should keep his leg elevated. Wufei didn't notice the General's distracted look as he was handed the hot mug of soup. Wufei took the mug. Treize set his down, and looked around until his eyes settled on the chair he had placed by the couch.  
  
"Brace yourself, please," he said, kneeling down. Wufei looked at him quizzically, an expression which quickly turned to fierce concentration as he saw Treize's hands reaching for his leg.  
  
Treize disentangled the blanket from around Wufei's legs. Then he lifted the injured leg gently, noting with dismay that a thin line of dark red was showing through the bandages. Cradling Wufei's calf in one arm, he reached for the chair, and brought it over.  
  
Carefully, Treize lowered Wufei's leg so that it rested comfortably on the padded seat of the chair. Treize let out a sigh of relief, no matter whether or not Wufei saw it. He looked up.  
  
Wufei's hands were white, clutching the mug of soup. His face was a similar color, and he shook violently. Even in the black depths of his eyes, Treize could see how dilated the pilot's pupils were. He reached a hand out to touch Wufei's shoulder.  
  
Wufei's shoulder twitched at the touch, but he started breathing more clearly, to Treize's eyes. Then he blinked, and unclenched his jaw.  
  
"I'm sorry," Treize said, and Wufei's eyes focused on him. Treize opened his mouth again, and found the breath to speak. "I...Your leg must be elevated, Chang Wufei." He moved away, and picked up his mug of soup.  
  
There was a minute of silence.  
  
"General..."  
  
Treize looked up from staring at his cup of soup.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"My leg... How bad...?"  
  
Treize pressed his lips tightly together. He looked down at the floor, at the discarded piece of shrapnel. Wufei looked at his face and followed his gaze back to the floor. There, he saw a large, bloody piece of jagged metal. That...had been...in his leg?  
  
"I think it cut all the way to the bone, Chang Wufei," Treize said. Wufei's face had no expression. What could he be thinking, right now? "You lost a lot of blood."  
  
"I feel fine."  
  
"Hopefully the ibuprofen will help with the headache."  
  
"I have no headache."  
  
"Chang Wufei..."  
  
"Wufei. Just call me Wufei."  
  
Treize raised an eyebrow. "If we are being informal, you must call me Treize."  
  
Wufei snorted. "Fine. Treize." His name was twisted and spat out, but it was better than being called General all the time.  
  
"Wufei, then. Wufei, what happened?"  
  
"What do you mean, Treize?" Wufei leered at the name, over-pronouncing it and stretching the syllable.  
  
Treize sighed. "I mean, you show up at my cabin at two AM from a battle that ended around seven PM last night, torn to shreds by shrapnel. Which, if I might add, hit only the left side of your body. Judging by the size of that-" he indicated the large piece of metal on the floor, "-I'd say the explosion was rather large. I'd have heard it, if it were nearby."  
  
Wufei bit his lip. Treize kept watching him.  
  
"It was...a mission. To destroy an armaments factory," he finally said, quietly. "I...failed."  
  
Treize raised an eyebrow.  
  
Wufei continued, glaring into Treize's eyes, challenging him to make a comment. "The new mobile dolls were there, and complete. They're all over Earth." This made Treize start, slightly, in surprise. Romefeller had told him that it would be weeks until the new mobile dolls were complete, much less sent to Earth.  
  
Wufei choked out a small, sarcastic laugh, at himself and at Treize's expression. "Maybe I didn't fail...," he muttered. "They chased me into the middle of the factory. They were...set...to track Na--my Gundam. So I...left it, there." Treize frowned. Wufei was starting to shake in outrage. "I left my Gundam, and I got out of there. I...ran..."  
  
Treize sat back. So that was Wufei's problem. He had run away from a battle. And worse, from a battle against cold, lifeless machines.  
  
"And they destroyed your Gundam?" Treize asked quietly. He saw Wufei's eyes refocus on him. As long as Wufei's pupils had concentrated on his own, they had broken away from reality and he had been staring at an invisible wall between them.  
  
Wufei straightened slightly, regaining his composure. "I don't know. All I remember was the explosion. The dolls took care of the factory, for me. Then there was the shrapnel, and...running."  
  
Treize leaned forward. "You...ran? On that leg?"  
  
"What else was I going to do?" Wufei spat.  
  
"But...how did you get here?"  
  
"I ran."  
  
Treize was silent for a moment. "Wufei...which factory were you attacking?"  
  
Wufei responded immediately. "The Baja Taurus factory."  
  
"But that's..." Treize paused, running figures through his head. "That's over fifty miles away."  
  
"Yes." Wufei was unfazed.  
  
"Why did you run all the way here?"  
  
Wufei curled his lip. "Think about it." Treize thought. Wufei had known he needed medical attention. If he had stayed in the area of the explosion, an ambulance would have picked him up. He would have been healed. Then, he would have had to answer as to why a boy was on the factory site after closing hours, and what he had to do with the blast. Not to mention that fragments of gundanium would be found amidst the ruins, and everyone knew that the Gundam pilots were young boys... Of course he would have to leave the area, and in desperation, the first place he may have thought of would have been the cabin. Treize nodded. Wufei sniffed, and took a sip of his soup.  
  
Treize looked down at his untouched mug of soup. A sound made him look up.  
  
Wufei fought it, but he yawned widely, his shoulders shaking in exhaustion. Treize smiled a bit. Now that the edge had worn off of Wufei's pain, he should sleep.  
  
"Wufei..."  
  
Wufei blinked, trying to keep himself awake. "Yes?"  
  
"You should get some rest."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"I believe you. But you've had a hard night, and it would be good to relax your body."  
  
"Do you have a radio?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I need to radio...the other pilots." Treize frowned a little.  
  
"Well, yes, I do..." He looked outside at the rain. "I don't know how it will work, though. It's old." He looked at Wufei, and stood up. "Just a minute."  
  
"Thank you," he heard Wufei mumble as he left the main room.  
  
Treize returned a few minutes later with a small radio. He left the radio with Wufei, and went to his room. Even through the walls of the cabin and the rain outside, he could hear the static that the old radio emitted, proving his doubts that it would be able to cut through the storm.  
  
Treize quietly made his bed, smoothing out the sheets and pulling up the blankets until it was comfortable again. He fluffed the pillows. Finally, he moved on to a closet and pulled out some extra pillows. He set them next to the bed. Then he sat down.  
  
A few minutes after he was done, he heard the static stop. He waited. Eight minutes later, the static began again. Another five minutes, and it stopped again. He decided Wufei would be done, by now. He stood, and left the bedroom.  
  
---  
  
Treize poked his head around the frame of the kitchen door, to see Wufei staring miserably at the radio. "Excuse me..." Wufei looked up. "Did you get through?"  
  
Wufei wrinkled his nose. "No. I tried twice."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't bother."  
  
"Wufei..." Wufei blinked at Treize, and he went on. "Would you be willing to rest, and perhaps sleep? I would feel better if you healed up a bit more before you left."  
  
"Sure," Wufei said dejectedly. Immediately, he started to lie down on the couch, wincing as he tried to move his leg back from the chair to the couch.  
  
"No!" Treize exclaimed. Wufei's head shot up in surprise. "You...please, sleep in my room," Treize said. "The bed is much more comfortable than the couch."  
  
Wufei opened his mouth to refuse, but closed it again, and nodded. The bed really was more comfortable than the couch, and warmer, too. And he was tired. But getting through the kitchen and the bathroom into the back of the cabin would be painful.  
  
"How am I supposed to get there?" Wufei asked quietly.  
  
Treize ran his eyes over Wufei for a moment, then stepped forward. Wufei tried to back into the couch.  
  
"No way! You're not..." He sputtered as Treize ran an arm behind his back. Treize pulled him up gently, so that Wufei was standing on his right leg.  
  
"I think that if you tried hopping to the bedroom, you would break another rib," Treize said reasonably. Wufei nodded and, beet red, he reached his arms up to hold onto Treize's neck and shoulders. Treize leaned down and gently picked Wufei up so that the pilot's thighs rested against his forearm. This way, he would not pressure his injured leg.  
  
Wufei shook with the small jolt of pain that being lifted had brought on. Treize readjusted the blankets around him carefully, then started to walk towards the door. With Wufei's help, he walked through the kitchen. When they got to the bathroom, Wufei coughed.  
  
Treize blinked at the pilot. "Wufei...I forgot. Do you need to--" Wufei nodded quickly, and Treize carefully set him down on one leg. Wufei glanced at the floor, embarrassed, then fairly pushed Treize out of the bathroom. Treize laughed quietly as he stumbled into the bedroom. After a minute, the bathroom door opened again, and Wufei maneuvered himself into the doorway, leaning on the frame.  
  
Treize hurried back over, and picked Wufei up again. He carried the young pilot the short distance to the bed, and gently laid him down.  
  
Wufei cringed as his left foot touched down on the mattress. Almost before he knew it, Treize had snapped up the spare pillows from the floor, and Wufei's injured leg had been comfortably elevated. Then Treize pulled the blankets up in order to tuck them around Wufei.  
  
Soon, Wufei felt more comfortable than he ever had during the war. He yawned again, and smiling unconsciously, he nestled into the soft pillows. Treize smiled. Wonderful. Sleep would help the young pilot heal. Within moments, Wufei's breathing was slow and even, and Treize turned out the light. A thought struck him, and he hung a thick blanket over the curtain rod, blocking the rising sun from shining into the room.  
  
---  
  
Treize returned to the main room. The sun coming up over the mountains was incredibly bright. Why did this seem so strange? Oh, of course. It had stopped raining. There were birds outside, heralding the dawn.  
  
Treize leaned down and picked up the piece of shrapnel that had been stuck in Wufei's leg. The blood had dried on it, giving it a rusty, dark look. He shuddered again, wondering if Wufei's leg could possibly heal properly. He placed the metal on one of the bloody towels he had used initially to stop Wufei's bleeding. Then he found the piece that he had pulled from above Wufei's ear, and placed it on the towel.  
  
Almost silently, Treize wrapped the towel around the bits of shrapnel. Then he walked stiffly into the kitchen, and dropped the bundle into a trash bag, towel and all. He went back to the main room.  
  
The rest of the clean-up was simple: putting the remaining towels where they could be washed, returning all of the unused bandages to the green kit and the kit to the bathroom, and putting the bowl and kettle back in the kitchen. Some blood had gotten on the couch where Wufei had been lying, and other spots dotted the floor. Treize mopped up what he could from the couch before finding some cleaner to stop the stain. He didn't bother with the floor.  
  
Satisfied that he had done everything he could in the main room, Treize picked up Wufei's empty mug, and his own untouched cup of cold soup, and took them to the kitchen.  
  
Mugs. Bowl. Soup pot. Treize washed all of the dishes. And dried them. And put them away. Then he puttered around the kitchen, trying to find more meaningless tasks to keep him busy until Wufei woke up. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep, but his feeling of responsibility towards Wufei kept him awake.  
  
He was just giving in to the inevitable, and had turned towards the couch that would work just fine in replacement of his own, comfortable bed, when a cry from the bedroom startled him. Treize jumped, spun around, and ran through the kitchen and the bathroom.  
  
---  
  
Blackout  
  
---  
  
"The Play of Life"  
-Act II, scene 2-  
  
---  
  
Lights  
  
---  
  
Wufei had moved in his sleep. He had rolled over, and in doing so, moved his injured leg off the pillows that it rested on. Treize flipped on the light in the bedroom and could see it at once. He leaped forward and pulled back the covers of the bed. The thin line of red that had shown through the bandages earlier had spread, and as Wufei thrashed about in pain, Treize ran his fingers along the bandage. It was wet to the touch.  
  
"Quiet, Wufei. Please," he whispered. "Don't think about it. Just don't move." Wufei choked out a strangling sound, shuddered, and took a deep breath. "Good," Treize continued. "Concentrate on me. Talk to me."  
  
Treize thought quickly. What subject would the pilot be most likely to talk freely about? He blurted out, "Do you have a girlfriend? Someone who is waiting for you to come back from the war?" As he talked, he jumped into the bathroom and retrieved the medical kit he had just put away.  
  
"I...No," Wufei said. Treize could hear a catch.  
  
"No one? Family, even? Perhaps a cousin." He reentered the room, and immediately flipped the field kit open to pull out more bandages and salves. Oh, he wished he could stitch Wufei's leg up. That would help the process, but he didn't want to hurt him further with his lack of expertice.  
  
"No one," Wufei breathed. He was desperately trying to concentrate on their conversation. "They're all...huhh! They're dead," he finished, as another flash of pain hit him. Treize arranged the supplies on the bed. Then he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a small pocket knife.  
  
"Whatever you do, now, Wufei," he said, "Do not move. Did you...have a girlfriend...perhaps, a young love?" He flipped the blade open, and placed the tip at the top of the bandage on Wufei's leg.  
  
"No! Just...my wife," Wufei breathed. Meiran. That's right. Think about Meiran.  
  
Treize started to pull the sharp blade down, across the bandages, but away from the actual wound. He sliced through the tape and gauze easily, but was careful not to even touch Wufei's skin.  
  
"Your wife?"  
  
"She's...she's dead. An...OZ attack." Wufei spat out the words, but still did not move.  
  
"An OZ attack on L5?" Treize asked. He pulled the bandages free, not caring about the blood that spattered on the sheets. Blood had clotted around most of the wound, but one deep section was still flowing.  
  
"Ye-yes," Wufei said. "She went...to fight OZ. To save our people..." Treize wiped up some of the excess blood with gauze. Then he sprayed a disinfectant over the wound again, and then more salve. "She...took a mobile suit. It was a...prototype."  
  
"Like the Gundams?" Treize asked. He started to wind gauze around Wufei's leg.  
  
"Sort of. D...Doctor O made that one...first. Then he made...mine." Wufei cried out as Treize lifted his leg to wind the bandage around it.  
  
"He designed two Gundams?" He fastened the gauze, and cut the extra off.  
  
"Yes. Meiran...took the first one."  
  
"Meiran?" Treize reached for the medical tape.  
  
"My wife."  
  
"That's a beautiful name. Tell me what she looked like." He started to wrap the medical tape around Wufei's leg. He wound it firmly, but not so tight as to cut off the pilot's circulation. Wufei whimpered and shook, but did not move his legs.  
  
"She...was shorter than me," Wufei gasped. "Her hair...long, and black..."  
  
"What did she like to do?" Carefully, carefully...  
  
Wufei coughed, and Treize realized it was actually a laugh. "She liked to fight. She...challenged me, a lot."  
  
"And you?" There, the tape should hold him together for a little longer, this time, Treize thought.  
  
"I read. A lot," Wufei said.  
  
Treize lifted Wufei's leg back onto the stack of pillows. "Not a fighter?"  
  
Wufei sighed. :Not then." Treize also sighed. His task was done. He started to pick up the remaining materials.  
  
"And then she...Meiran...died."  
  
Wufei's breathing evened out. "Yes." Treize dumped the bandages and salves into the medical box, and shut it.  
  
"You loved her." Wufei closed his eyes. Treize lifted an eyebrow. "Wufei?"  
  
"I don't know," he mumbled. "I never knew."  
  
Treize pulled the blankets back up over Wufei, and tucked them in again. "Wufei?"  
  
The pilot made a guttural noise that indicated he was listening.  
  
"Would you like another motrin?" Wufei opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.  
  
"Yes. Thank you." Treize looked at the young pilot sadly, and went to get the medication. When he returned, Wufei had not moved at all.  
  
"Here," the General said. Wufei accepted the pill and small glass of water silently. "I'm sorry that I asked about--"  
  
"Don't bother," Wufei said, placing the pill on his tongue. He took a long drink of water and swallowed. After a moment, he looked at Treize again. "Thank you."  
  
Treize blinked. Of course, for the bandages. "You are quite welcome."  
  
"Treize..."  
  
"Yes, Wufei?"  
  
"Could you uncover the window?"  
  
"Of course," Treize said, walking over and pulling the heavy blanket away. Bright sunlight flooded the room, and they both blinked away the sudden spots in front of their eyes. "Would you like to get up, now?"  
  
"Um, no," Wufei said, knitting his brows. "I'll...go back to sleep."  
  
"Carefully."  
  
"Hmm. I won't move, this time."  
  
"Very well." Treize moved back to the door. "Sleep well."  
  
"Mm..." Asleep already. Treize almost smiled. There was nothing else to do... He picked up a book lying on the bedside table, and quietly pulled a small stool over to sit on. He opened the book to a thin, yellowing bookmark, and made himself comfortable to read. From here, he could look up at any time and see the young pilot. Sighing, he began to read.  
  
---  
  
Wufei yawned. He was well rested enough that opening his eyes into the bright light of the room did not hurt. He hadn't moved any since Treize had repositioned him, last. He knew better than to try to sit up, so he stretched his neck and looked from side to side.  
  
Wufei almost laughed out loud. Treize had moved to lie down on the floor and read, but had finally fallen asleep. His thumb was still stuck between the pages where he had been reading, but otherwise he had sprawled himself across the floor and generally looked very funny.  
  
Wufei shifted slightly, to ease a slight sympathy pain in his back that had come from looking at the odd position the General had chosen to sleep in. General. Treize. Wufei frowned thoughtfully as he contemplated the man on the floor.  
  
General Treize Kushrenada was a hard man, devious, scheming, full of ideas and always with a ready answer that could manipulate anyone into doing as he wished. Yet Wufei could not connect that official with the man who had taken care of him this past day.  
  
Treize was caring and gentle, intelligent, and forgiving. He made mistakes, apologized, and was more... friendly, Wufei decided. He was friendly. Moreso, Wufei realized that he actually respected the man for the space, privacy, and care he had given to him. He smiled slightly.  
  
"Hmph." From the floor, Treize rolled over, back over, and stretched. He blinked his eyes open, grimacing, and glared at the ceiling. "Nngrr...."  
  
"Hello," Wufei said, from the bed.  
  
"Hm?" Treize stood up and looked around. "Oh, Wufei. Excuse me."  
  
"No problem," Wufei said. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
Treize tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow at the change in Wufei's tone from earlier that morning. "Quite well, actually, considering that's a wooden floor." He laughed, deep in his throat. "I knew I should have gotten throw rugs."  
  
"Treize?" The taller man stretched again before looking down on himself and realizing he had never gotten dressed.  
  
"Yes?" He asked, striding over to a small dresser to remove a pair of pants.  
  
"Could I try to radio the other pilots again?" Treize looked outside. It was still sunny, so the interference would be gone.  
  
"Of course. I'll get it in just a minute, unless you'd like to go back out to the living room?"  
  
"Um. I'll stay here."  
  
"Ah. Give me a minute," Treize said, clutching the pants and walking quickly towards the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later with the radio, wearing his pants. "Here. Good luck." He helped Wufei sit up slightly, and moved the pillows around his leg, accordingly. Wufei's leg still hurt, but he was less inclined to cry out.  
  
"Thank you," Wufei said quietly as Treize left and closed the door. Wufei blinked at the door for a moment before smiling and switching the radio on. He didn't have to worry about Treize listening to his conversation with the other pilots--Treize's honor would not let him do something so low.  
  
The radio buzzed for a few minutes while Wufei readjusted the knobs and the antenna. All at once, the buzzing calmed on a clearer radio wave.  
  
Wufei pressed a button on the small microphone. "This is pilot 05, Nataku," he said. "Is there anyone there to hear me? Pilot 05, Nataku." He released the button and waited a minute before repeating his message. The second time, he got a response.  
  
"Nataku?--ey, man! Where are--are you? We've been l--king all ov--er--or you," came the staticy reply. "--Ow'd the mis--go?" There was a click before the soft hum of the radio came back. Wufei pressed the mike button again.  
  
"Mission...failed," he said. "I've got injuries, and I need someone to come get me."  
  
"Fai--man, that's--ough luck, Na--ku. Can you g--us a rough est--are?"  
  
"Repeat that?"  
  
"Where--you?"  
  
"About fifty miles northwest of the mission site. I'm in a forest, small clearing."  
  
"One mo--ime, buddy."  
  
"About fifty miles. North. West. From the mission site. Small clearing, in a forest."  
  
"Okay. Got it--will be sometime--night, we're a li--usy, you know, but--get to you as soon--possible, Nataku."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"--ey! No probl--an! Take care of--self, okay?"  
  
"Yes. Nataku, signing out."  
  
"La--man. Deathsy--ing out." Wufei sighed and turned the radio off. Tonight. He glanced at the bedside clock. Half-past noon.  
  
About fifteen minutes later, Treize returned with a plate of small sandwiches, and some cups. He poked his head through the door before walking in. He smiled brightly.  
  
"Ah, you got through?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Lunch?"  
  
"Yes, please. Thank you."  
  
"My pleasure," Treize said, placing the sandwiches on the bedside table. He helped Wufei adjust some more to make eating more comfortable. "Then...the other pilots will come to pick you up?"  
  
"Sometime tonight," Wufei said, accepting a cup from Treize. It was hot tea. He sniffed the aroma and sighed. Very nice.  
  
"Good," Treize said. "Do you need to signal them?"  
  
Wufei thought for a moment. "No. Probably not. But...could I sit outside?"  
  
Treize smiled at him and took a sip of tea. "Yes, I think we can arrange that."  
  
"Treize..."  
  
"Yes?" Wufei looked down at a sandwich he had picked up. He looked back into Treize's eyes. They looked sad.  
  
"Thank you." Treize smiled. It was a sad smile.  
  
"Thank you, Wufei." Wufei frowned thoughtfully at him for a moment. Then he returned to his food. They let the silence stretch between them for a while as they finished their lunch.  
  
When they finished, Treize removed the plate and empty cups. He set them in the kitchen absentmindedly, wondering how to entertain Wufei for the rest of the day.  
  
"Wufei?"  
  
The young pilot had taken to staring out the window at the trees outside the cabin. "Yes?"  
  
"I know being injured is...frustrating. Perhaps you like to play chess?"  
  
Wufei favored Treize with an amused smile. "I don't know how." Treize looked slightly taken aback at this statement.  
  
"I thought everyone...Penté?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Mancala?"  
  
"Hm-mm."  
  
"Go-Mo-Ku?"  
  
Wufei raised an eyebrow. "I know that one."  
  
Treize grinned. "Wonderful. Could you teach me?" Wufei laughed.  
  
"I can. It's very easy, like your game...um...Tic Tac Toe?"  
  
"Ah, yes!"  
  
"Do you have a game board?"  
  
Treize nodded, and turned to his dresser drawers. The bottom drawer was full of books and old boxes of games. Treize pulled out a worn cloth and a bag of playing stones.  
  
"I played when I was very young," Treize said. "Unfortunately, I've forgotten how." He laid the cloth out on the bedside table, which was easily within Wufei's reach. Now Wufei could see that a Go-Mo-Ku board had been stained into the cloth. Treize dumped the playing stones out. They were red and blue glass drops. Wufei chose the red.  
  
"Red?"  
  
"It's customary. You go first."  
  
"How should I start?"  
  
"See the intersections of the squares? The idea is to take four intersections in a row." Wufei pointed and set pieces to example his explanation. "Horizontal, or diagonal, any way works."  
  
"Mm. I see. So I place the first piece?"  
  
"Yes. But you must call the coordinates," Wufei said. "And when you get four in a row, you must call 'Go-Mo-Ku.' That's how you win."  
  
"Ah. Well, then...five, five." Treize set a blue stone in the direct center of the board.  
  
"Six, six," Wufei said, placing a red stone.  
  
"Six, five."  
  
"Hm. Seven, five."  
  
"Ah. Five, seven."  
  
"Hm? Five, six."  
  
"...Four, six."  
  
"...Oh!" Wufei blinked in surprise. "You win!"  
  
"But I haven't made four in a row, yet..."  
  
"But anything I do..."  
  
"I can still win."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Very well, then. Go-Mo-Ku." Treize paused. "This is very much like Penté."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Let me show you." Treize returned to the dresser drawer and pulled out a slightly larger piece of cloth, somewhat less worn. He unrolled it to show Wufei. The board was exactly like the Go-Mo-Ku board, except about four times the size.  
  
Treize removed the Go-Mo-Ku board. He set the Penté board on the table and placed pieces on it to mimic their game.  
  
"You see, the object in this game is to get five pieces in a row." Wufei nodded. Treize picked up one of his red stones. "However, in Penté, you can place this here." He set the stone at six, four.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Now, say I laugh at your move. I place a stone at three, five, because that is most advantageous to me."  
  
"How am I supposed to stop you from winning?"  
  
"Like so," Treize said, placing another red piece. Wufei frowned as he looked at the board. "Three, seven."  
  
"What does that do?" Treize smiled secretively, and plucked the blue stones from five, five, and four, six.  
  
"When you surround two of my pieces like that, you can remove them from the board. Now I only have three pieces on the board, and not placed strategically. Do you understand?"  
  
Wufei thought for a moment. "Yes."  
  
"Of course, it works in reverse."  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"Would you like to continue, or start a new game?"  
  
"A new game. You start."  
  
"Ah." Treize cleared the Penté board, handing the red stones back to Wufei. "Ten, ten." Ten, ten was the center of the Penté board.  
  
"Hmm."  
  
---  
  
Blackout  
  
---  
---  
  



	3. Act III

This is a Gundam Wing fanfiction.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Angst. Thinking. Sap is a possibility. Shonen-ai? Up to you. Depending on your tastes, there's even a bit of humor.  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Explainations: I do not believe in Brecht. Therefore, anything I deem necessary to explain will be taken care of in an addition at the end of the story, but not footnoted in the text.  
  
---  
  
This is dedicated to Apache--Warrior Princess, Queen of the Downstairs, Moose, Boxcar Willy, Tribble "the Kitten", Occy, Puss, Chang, Jemimah, Yang, Fluffy, Oreo, Tiger, Blackie, Casper, Smokey, Catlin, and Caltrop, the cats in my life.  
  
---  
  
"The Play of Life"  
-Act III, scene 1-  
  
---  
  
"It is now time for the third and final act to begin."  
  
---  
  
Lights  
  
---  
  
"Are we back at a tie?"  
  
"Seven to seven," Wufei said, disgusted. They had played fourteen games since the first, and managed to tie every second game.  
  
"I congratulate you, Wufei. Not many people have beat me at this game."  
  
"I never lost Go-Mo-Ku, before," Wufei countered.  
  
Treize smiled. He looked at the bedside clock. "It's been a slow day," he said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Would you like to eat before we head outside?"  
  
"A little."  
  
"Let me see what I have. Wufei...you said that you like to read?" Wufei looked up at Treize as the taller man stood.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What kind of books?"  
  
Wufei shrugged. "Histories, novels. Some fantasies." Treize dropped to his knees and shuffled through the bottom drawer of the dresser.  
  
"Heros, lovers, magic, kings and queens, ah, and plenty of swordplay."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Wufei said.  
  
"Here," Treize said, tossing the worn paperback to him. "I'll see what I can do about dinner." Wufei looked at the picture on the cover of the book curiously. He turned the book over a couple of times before opening it and reading the credits.  
  
Treize smiled as Wufei became thoroughly ensconced in the book. Perhaps these young pilots weren't so different from other teenagers. Wufei, at least, played games, read books...they had feelings, and unique thoughts. Smiling to himself, he quietly left the room.  
  
---  
  
Almost an hour later, Treize returned to the bedroom. Wufei was still reading the book, and had made remarkable time, reaching near the middle of the thick book.  
  
"You read very fast," Treize commented from the doorway. Wufei looked up, startled. Treize smiled disarmingly. "I've made dinner. There were some game birds in my freezer--you don't mind?" Wufei shook his head. "Very good. I'll bring them in. I've made hot water--would you like some more tea?"  
  
"Yes, please." Treize smiled, bowed his head slightly, and left the room. Wufei sighed and settled back against the pillows. In a way, he was surprised at himself. Staying in bed so long would normally have made him irritable and jumpy... Yet, Treize had played Penté with him, and given him a book to read, and he was actually quite calm and content. He smiled slightly and looked absently at the clock.  
  
Almost five o'clock. Wufei frowned. The other pilots would be coming to get him in a few hours. He looked at his leg, which was still covered by blankets, and realized that he really hadn't thought much about his leg for the past few hours. Or his ribs. Treize had done a remarkable job of taking his mind off of his injuries.  
  
Treize. As Wufei's thoughts returned to the pilots, he remembered the war. The war had gone on for far too long. It was a disgusting war, far moreso than other wars he had learned or read about. Yet, beneath the facade of General Treize Kushrenada was a man that Wufei wished to know better.  
  
"I'm sorry," Wufei heard Treize say. Wufei's head shot up. He hadn't noticed Treize walk into the room, but now that he noticed him, he could also smell the delicious aroma of roast bird.  
  
Treize had seen the small pilot frowning at his hands, and thought he had disturbed Wufei's thoughts, but apparently the boy hadn't even noticed him until he spoke.  
  
"Don't apologize," Wufei said.  
  
"Fine, then. Wood pigeon?" He asked, offering a plate to Wufei.  
  
"Is that what it is?" Treize laughed as Wufei poked at the lump of flesh on his plate. It looked a little strange, but smelled good. He took a small taste, smiled approvingly, and continued to eat. Treize poured tea for both of them before sitting down.  
  
"It's very good," Wufei said. "You like to cook, don't you?"  
  
Treize nodded as he finished chewing a bite of food. "Yes. Although...I almost never ate meat as a boy."  
  
Wufei tilted his head. "Why not? Why now?" Treize closed his eyes and blew over the tea in his cup to cool it down before taking a sip.  
  
"I'm afraid it's not a very noble story, Wufei." Wufei regarded him skeptically and Treize laughed. "Where I come from, it is customary to keep geese as pets," he said. "I was given a gosling before I was even old enough to eat meat. That bird was my pet and protector for years. It grew up to be a very healthy goose, because I gave it bits of my own food as well as its feed."  
  
Treize stopped and took a bite of woodpidgeon. He sighed, and looked back at Wufei, who was waiting patiently for the rest of the story.  
  
"One winter...the same year that I broke my hip, actually...my poor goose disappeared. I did miss it terribly, you understand." Wufei nodded. "I asked my father to search for her...he promised he would. Two days later, I ate a meal that I had never tasted before." Wufei gasped, realized where the story was leading.  
  
Treize nodded. "When I found out that we had eaten that goose...I swore off meat of any sort. My father was the only one who heard me." Treize looked down at his plate, almost wistfully. "Three years later, the Canque Kingdom was destroyed. My father was...an official, in Romefeller, at the time." Treize looked up into Wufei's eyes. Wufei stared back, surprised that Treize was telling him this. "He died the same day the leader of the colonies was assassinated. Another orphan and myself were placed together under the care of my grandmother."  
  
"Zechs Merquise," Wufei breathed. "He's Milliard Peacecraft, I know."  
  
"You Gundam pilots..."  
  
"Don't!" Wufei cut in, almost angrily. Treize snapped out of his troubled reverie and looked at Wufei.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Wufei fairly shook as he spat at Treize. "Don't say anything more. I...I can't listen to it!"  
  
Treize shook his head to clear it, and took a long sip of his tea. Finally, he looked back at Wufei.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had gone so far. Where was I? Ah. It was Milliard who convinced me to eat meat again, because he had an appetite for steak, and my grandmother would cook it often." Wufei watched Treize suspiciously for a moment before he settled down and resumed eating. "It was more difficult to start eating fowl again..." Treize hesitated, and Wufei raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"I still can't eat goose," Treize admitted. Wufei almost choked into his woodpidgeon.  
  
"So long!"  
  
Treize grinned. "That goose just happened to be my best friend, Chang Wufei! Come now, and tell me that you've never had a pet...an animal that you cared about?"  
  
Wufei started to shake his head, but stopped. "There was a cricket." Treize coughed.  
  
"A cricket?"  
  
"Hmm. Master Long kept it in a cricket box, and asked me to care for it. It was all part of my training, I suppose. At least it was nice to listen to."  
  
"Please don't tell me that a bird got to it?"  
  
"No. It died of old age." Treize smiled and nodded. Wufei looked down at his plate. It was almost empty. "Meiran..."  
  
"Your wife?"  
  
"Yes. She had cats."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"I think I paid more attention to the cats than I did to her." Treize stayed silent, unsure of what to say. "It was a family of cats, a mother and her two kittens. All three calicos."  
  
"They are rare," Treize said. Wufei looked up at him.  
  
"I'd heard so...but...they were temperamental. That's what Meiran liked about them."  
  
"She sounds like a wonderful person."  
  
Wufei nodded quickly. "She is!... Was..." He glanced at Treize, and then back to his plate. Empty. So empty. He felt so empty.  
  
"Would you like some more, Wufei? There's plenty."  
  
Wufei looked up. "Um. Yes, please." Treize stood and took Wufei's plate. Wufei stared at the spot in his lap where the plate had been resting, and didn't move until the replenished plate had been returned.  
  
Treize sat down after giving Wufei his food. He frowned for a moment at Wufei's lonely expression, then took a bite of food.  
  
"Treize..."  
  
"Uh-hmphm?" Wufei looked up to see Treize with a mouthful of food looking questioningly at him. He tried to stifle it, but laughed out loud. Treize looked sideways, as if there were someone else in the room for him to offer his wry expression to. He swallowed. "Ahem! Excuse me. Yes, Wufei?"  
  
Wufei calmed down to a mere snicker, but the light of laughter did not leave his eyes. "Treize...I was just wondering..." His expression became more and more serious, and Treize raised an eyebrow. "What...do you want to do?"  
  
"What do I want to do?"  
  
"After." Treize looked at Wufei appraisingly. After. After the war.  
  
"I don't know, Wufei."  
  
"Do you want to do...something else? I want...to teach." He looked into Treize's eyes. "Do you think I can teach?"  
  
Treize stared back into Wufei's deep, black eyes. "I think so."  
  
"What could I teach?" Wufei's eyes were asking as many questions as his voice was.  
  
"You teach what you know, Wufei. Teach what you excel in, what you love to do." Treize bit his lip, hidden by his teacup.  
  
"What if it's not remembered?" Ah, the real question.  
  
"You mean this war, Wufei?" Treize saw the corners of Wufei's eyes twitch, and knew he had hit on the young pilot's real concern. Treize sighed. "Wufei...if I tell you my thoughts on this endless war, they will merge with your own."  
  
"I know," Wufei said, quietly.  
  
"Therefore, I cannot tell you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I wish for your opinions to remain pure to yourself and your cause."  
  
"But..."  
  
Treize glanced sharply into Wufei's eyes. "Tell me, Wufei. Do you believe in total pacifism?" Wufei's eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth to speak. He shut it again and looked at his plate of food, which he hadn't touched since Treize returned it to him.  
  
"Oh...", he whispered. Treize stood. He walked over and sat gently on the bed.  
  
"Wufei," Treize said, "You understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Ah." He leaned towards Wufei and, conscious of his injuries, hugged him tightly. "Please survive, Wufei."  
  
"And what about you?" Wufei grumbled, hugging him back.  
  
"Wufei...my dear friend. I'll be fine. Do not fret over my health." He lightened his voice to ease the tension in the room.  
  
"Hn." After another moment, the two pulled away from each other.  
  
"I think it's time for you to get outside," Treize said, looking at the clock. Wufei glanced at the clock, and nodded. Treize picked up the plates and cups, and moved them out of the way. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, and left the room.  
  
---  
  
Blackout  
  
---  
  
"The Play of Life"  
-Act III, scene 2-  
  
---  
  
Lights  
  
---  
  
Humming quietly to himself, Treize found two chairs, and took them outside the cabin. He set them up so that one chair faced the other. Thinking quickly, he brought out a small cushion from the couch to set on one of the chairs. Then he returned to the bedroom. Wufei was reading the book he had given him, again.  
  
"It's all set up," he said. He pulled back the blankets and sheet. Wufei winced when he saw the russet of dried blood on the white sheets. Treize paid it no mind, but was relieved to see that no red had peeked through the second set of bandages on Wufei's leg. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Hmm," Wufei said, grunting and looked down at himself. He braced himself for the pain he knew was about to come. "Yes." Treize reached down and picked Wufei up exactly as he had done that morning. Wufei reached his arms around Treize's neck to help steady himself, still not happy at being carried.  
  
Treize laughed at Wufei's expression. Wufei glared at him.  
  
"I'm sorry," Treize apologized. "Does it hurt?"  
  
"No!" Treize smiled and nodded.  
  
"Very well." He started to walk towards the door to the bathroom. "Um. Wufei, do you need to use the bathroom, before you leave?"  
  
Wufei glanced at Treize, then concentrated on pushing the door out of the way so that Treize could walk through.  
  
"No. Thank you." Treize carefully slid through the doorway, through the bathroom, into the kitchen. Wufei could see a number of dishes stacked about the counters--evidence of Treize's recent cooking. He was unable to reach the half-door that separated the kitchen from the main room, so he gritted his teeth as Treize kicked the door open.  
  
"Are you all right?" Treize asked as he walked into the main room. Wufei glanced up at him and nodded. "Good." Treize had left the door to the outside open, and Wufei stretched his neck to see the grass in the clearing.  
  
Treize walked outside, and Wufei noticed the two chairs he had erected. Setting Wufei down was slow and carefully done, and the young pilot let out a tiny breath he had been holding as he sat down without pain. Lifting Wufei's leg onto the chair was another matter, and Treize had to calm him twice before he settled down.  
  
Then Treize ran back into the house, and returned with Wufei's shirt and a chair for himself. He set up next to Wufei, and checked his watch as he gave Wufei his shirt.  
  
"What time?" Wufei asked, donning the garment.  
  
"Seven twenty-nine," he answered. Then there was silence as they watched the sky and listened for approaching aircraft.  
  
Wufei stole a glance at Treize, and smiled. It was a somewhat masked smile--more of a smirk, but genuine none the less.  
  
"Treize?" Treize shook his head and blinked, as if he had been startled out of his thoughts. He looked over at Wufei, as attentive as he had been all day.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Wufei looked Treize straight in the eye. "Thank you. For everything."  
  
Treize smiled. "I think it is I who should be thanking you, Wufei." Wufei frowned. "But in the meantime, you are quite welcome." Wufei nodded, satisfied with this courtesy.  
  
They resumed watching the sky, and moments later, Wufei swiveled his head to look east. Treize caught the movement from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Are they here?"  
  
"A couple of miles that way," Wufei said, pointing.  
  
"Ah. Well, then, Wufei, goodbye." Wufei turned back to look at Treize again. They were both smiling. Unarmed. Friends.  
  
"Goodbye."  
  
"I am waiting for your second challenge."  
  
"I'll bring it." The sounds from the east became clearer, and Treize recognized the rhythm of a helicopter.  
  
"So..." Treize leaned forward and hugged Wufei again. Wufei leaned into the embrace, holding the other man tightly. "Farewell, Wufei."  
  
"Goodbye, Treize," the young pilot answered. "...Good luck." Treize stood, and made a small bow to Wufei.  
  
"Thank you, again, Wufei. Live well, and honorably." With that he picked up his chair, turned, and walked into the cabin. Wufei smiled lopsidedly as he watched Treize go. He was Wufei again, pilot 05. And Treize was General Treize Kushrenada, now. Or perhaps...maybe they could hold off from returning to the war for just a few minutes longer.  
  
---  
  
Treize closed the door behind him. Like a curious schoolchild, he knelt by the small window that faced Wufei, and watched. Wufei's eyes were still resting on the door, and after a moment, they flicked to the window. Wufei smiled. He knew.  
  
Treize smiled as well. Then movement over the canopy of the forest caught his eye, and he looked up to see a helicopter pulling up, over the clearing. The next few moments were blurred as grass, sticks, and leaves were hurled through the air. When it had settled enough to see, the helicopter had landed and three figures were rushing towards Wufei.  
  
---  
  
"Hey, Wufei!"  
  
"Duo!" Duo was the first to reach the Chinese pilot, and he gave him a soft knock to the shoulder. "You found u-uh...me."  
  
"Sure did, buddy," the other pilot said, looking over the bandages on Wufei's body as Trowa and Sally appeared with a stretcher, coughing.  
  
"Wufei!"  
  
"Sally!...Hello." Sally smiled as she rubbed dust from her eyes. She pushed Duo out of the way and bent to check the bandages. She lifted up Wufei's shirt enough to see clean white.  
  
"How in the world did you manage to get these on by yourself?" She asked, patting the bandages lightly.  
  
"The man who owns the cabin helped me," Wufei said. He grunted as Trowa put an arm behind his back and started to lift him. Duo supported Wufei's waist and upper thighs as Sally made sure that Wufei's bandaged leg was not jarred in any way.  
  
"No kidding?" Duo asked. "Nice guy. Does he want a ride? We can-"  
  
"No!" Wufei said, a bit quickly. Trowa and Duo each spared him a second's glance as they lowered him onto the stretcher. Wufei took a deep breath and tried again. "He...he'd rather be left alone, right now."  
  
"Okay," Duo said, grinning. He waved to the cabin. "Hey, thanks for taking care of our buddy!" he yelled.  
  
---  
  
Treize couldn't hear Wufei or his friends over the pattern of the helicopter, but he could see a boy waving excitedly at the cabin, a silly grin plastered on his face. After a moment, the tallest figure--a woman that Treize almost recognized--stood, smiled, and waved at the cabin as well.  
  
They were thanking him. Wufei hadn't told them who he was, and probably never would. It was just as well. He watched the third new figure, another boy, stand and wave once at the cabin. Then they all three leaned down and lifted the stretcher that was carrying Wufei.  
  
Treize watched the trio load Wufei into the helicopter with the help of another vague figure, presumably another pilot. Then the woman, the first boy, and finally the second boy all jumped into the helicopter and closed the hatch behind them.  
  
The helicopter lifted off almost immediately after that, and by the time the loose elements in the clearing had settled down again, Treize could just barely see the tail of the helicopter as it disappeared beyond the forest canopy.  
  
Treize moved away from the window and went to lay on the couch with a sigh. His small adventure was over. Wufei was gone. He felt...empty. This had been the first time in so long that he had actually felt...human. He had laughed, played games, and talked about life. There hadn't been any strategies or double dealings. With Wufei, he was not the director of a tragic play. He was an active character in the drama of life.  
  
Treize stood, making a decision. For the rest of his vacation, he would act exactly as he had when Wufei was here. He would play cards. A glance outside told him it should be sunny for a long time. That meant that the radio would be working, so he would listen to music. He would read. He would cook meals that he wanted to eat.  
  
He smiled.  
  
"Again...Thank you, Wufei."  
  
---  
  
"Bruised or broken rib..."  
  
"I'll take a look at that when we get back on the ground," Sally said, looking at the scab that had formed over the cut by Wufei's ear.  
  
"Cuts on my left forearm..."  
  
"Saw those. Not bad. Give me just a minute and I'll re-wrap them. Hey!" She exclaimed, looking at a small sort of watermark on the bandages she had unwrapped from around Wufei's arm. "These are from the aid kit I gave you!"  
  
"Hm?" Wufei raised an eyebrow. "Uhm...yeah."  
  
"But...I thought you said the man at that cabin helped you with the bandages. Certainly you didn't lug that huge box all the way out there in that condition!" She laughed.  
  
"No...I was keeping it there," Wufei said with a frown. Sally raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him further. Wufei sighed and continued. "The worst one is my leg."  
  
"Hmm?" Sally hummed, spraying a salve on Wufei's arm. Wufei winced.  
  
"Piece of shrapnel, umm...about that big," Wufei said, outlining a shape with his fingers. Sally looked up to see. She pursed her lips and frowned in sympathy.  
  
"It's not still in-"  
  
"No!...No, he pulled it out. And wrapped my leg. Twice." Sally smiled, trying to calm the distracted pilot.  
  
"Well, he did a very good job. He wasn't trained to do this kind of stuff, I'm sure. Wish I had students like him. Is that it?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Okay, then. I'll leave the rib cage and your leg until we get somewhere stable, okay Wufei?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Great. I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, smiling and moving towards the front of the helicopter. "Oh! Hello, Trowa." She slid past the other pilot as he walked into the small area that had been set up for emergency medical care.  
  
Wufei looked up from the stretcher he was still lying on. From this angle, he could see both of Trowa's eyes.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Trowa remembered the last time he had asked such a question of the Chinese pilot. He remembered watching as Wufei refused to answer and let his Nataku sink deeper and deeper in to the sea as he replayed his duel with Treize Kushrenada.  
  
Wufei sighed. "Quite well, considering." Trowa raised an eyebrow. "It was nice...getting a vacation, of sorts," Wufei added, a faint smile touching the corners of his lips. Trowa let the smile infect him, as well.  
  
"Why was your aid kit at that cabin?"  
  
Wufei watched as Trowa sat down next to him. "I found the cabin a while ago," he replied. "It looked deserted, so I used it as a sort of safe house." Trowa waited for him to go on. "It was the first place I thought of when I got injured at the Taurus factory. I guess I passed out when I got there. He found me in the doorway and took care of me."  
  
Trowa sensed Wufei didn't want to talk about it anymore. "I understand." Wufei glanced up at him again.  
  
"Trowa..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Could you teach me how to play chess?" Trowa blinked--the only sign that he might have been startled by this request.  
  
"Sure thing," he said.  
  
---  
  
Almost midnight. Treize went outside to collect the chairs and pillow that Wufei had been using. He smiled at the night sky. He almost felt as if curtains were being lowered, marking the end of an act in a play, cutting him off from the lights out beyond the audience.  
  
Now he would return to OZ as General Treize Kushrenada. They would all don their masks again, and play the cards they knew would be dealt. Was that the way the script went? Contemplate first and then act? Or did it matter what order things happened in? Real life was not planned and rehearsed.  
  
As lost as he was in his thoughts, Treize gasped when he felt something smooth crumple slightly beneath his feet. He set the chairs down and squinted through the darkness to see what it was. He picked it up.  
  
It was the book he had given to Wufei earlier. He hadn't even noticed him holding it on their way out into the clearing. He flipped the old book open and saw that a fresh blade of green grass had been used as a bookmark. He smiled and looked at the cover.  
  
"A Midsummer Night's Dream."  
  
"Very well, then, Wufei." Treize whispered. "Good luck. And good night. I'll be waiting."  
  
---  
  
Curtain  
  
---  
---  
  
The Cast, in order of appearance:  
  
Chang Wufei: Gundam pilot 05, Nataku/Shen-Long  
  
Treize Kushrenada: General of the OZ Organization  
  
Duo Maxwell: Gundam pilot 02, Deathsythe  
  
Sally Po: former Medical Aid Officer for the Federation  
  
Trowa Barton: Gundam pilot 03, Heavyarms  
  
---  
---  
  
Now that you've read this monstrosity, here's my little notes of explaination:  
  
The first line is voiced by Treize, on the day that he tricked Heero into killing all of the Federation pacifists (epsiode seven). The first line of the third act is also Treize, though I can't remember which episode it is from.  
  
For the bit where Wufei is talking about Meiran: I've seen little bits and pieces of Wufei's Episode Zero, but I've never read it. This is just what I've gathered from various other fics and discussions. If it's not the real deal, my sincere apologies.  
  
I don't know whether or not Go-Mo-Ku is a real game, but it was a favorite of mine that my teacher taught us when I was in first and second grade--I was very lucky when I found my old gameboard, because the instructions were still attached. The gameboard is a ten-by-ten square. You may wish to follow along on a gameboard of your own, so that the idea makes more sense to you--the Penté game described will also fit on the Go-Mo-Ku board.  
  
Penté is one of my current favorite games. The rules are as I explained them, although there is one more way to win--if, when "capturing" your opponent's stones, you manage to capture ten stones (five sets of two), you win. My gameboard (I've seen others in a variety of shapes) is a twenty-by-twenty square. Oh, also--when Treize is saying "It works in reverse," and Wufei acknowledges him, it simply means that both of them can use the rule to capture pieces. The conversation used there is very similar to the one between myself and a friend when I was teaching him how to play.  
  
The red and blue stones: Just a little fun I was having with the colors. In traditional Japanese theatre--Kabuki--the actor playing the protagonist wears red make-up for justice and bravery, and the antagonist wears indigo.  
  
"A Midsummer Night's Dream," is my favorite of all Shakespeare's plays. You decide how it fits into the story. In fact, I'd like to hear your opinions on the matter!  
  
---  
  
Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!  
  
KASEY 


End file.
